Visitations on an Aire

by Random_Guise

Summary:

A sequel to the 1993 film "Tombstone" using the concept of the Mitch Albom book "The Five People You Meet In Heaven", as we follow along on Doc Holliday's journey beyond.

Visitations on an Aire

"Odd - for being dead, I seem to have an unfair degree of mobility." John "Doc" Holliday took stock of his surroundings while he walked around the room, his feet making soft padding sounds on the wooden floor. It looked exactly like the sick ward of the Glenwood Sanitorium in Colorado, except that it was completely empty of people. The beds were all made, and there was a calm silence that fell about the place. Doc stood beside the bed where he had his last memory and touched the white sheet on top; it felt exactly like a cotton sheet. There was even the large scrape in the shape of the letter 'M' on the railing of the foot board that he had stared at for many hours in his last days.

He was wracked with a coughing fit and he waited for it to pass. "The news of my passing may not have been exaggerated, but a retraction may be in order," he said to himself. "Or at least a footnote." His last memory was that of lying in the bed before he found himself standing now in the empty room. The other patients, the nurses, the doctor - all were gone.

"Rest assured, you are dead from tuberculosis, Mr. Holliday," a soft voice spoke from behind him. He turned and saw a young woman dressed as a nurse. She looked familiar and after studying her face for a moment it came to him.

"You're a nurse here, Miss...Morris, isn't it?" he asked.

"I was. I'm not, anymore."

"What are you now, darlin'? If I'm dead, are you an angel? From an angel of mercy to the real thing, I do declare."

"No. I'm dead, just like you. Up here, you meet five people that you have a connection with, people that you met during your life. Ours was near the end," she said.

"I'm sorry to hear of your passing; mine did not come as a shock to me, but I don't recall you looking sick. And I don't recall us having more than a passing acquaintance."

"I wasn't sick. I was killed in a train wreck many years after you died. Don't worry yourself any; it was over in an instant and I didn't suffer. And no, we only barely spoke a few times."

"Why are we meeting?"

"I probably need to thank you."

"Thank me? For dying? Darlin', I was most nearly there when I came in. For what do you need to thank me?"

"It's only a guess mind you, but my faith."

Doc was taken back. "Surely you don't mean the lively and partisan discussions I had with Father Feeney?" He hadn't really discussed theology with the priest; Martin Luther aside, Doc didn't find that much difference between the Catholic faith and the Protestant upbringing he had endured. But he was learned enough to pose a few questions to the priest that he knew had no definitive answer, just to gauge the man's response.

"Oh, no. Despite my upbringing, I didn't even think there was a Heaven when I started here. But you convinced me otherwise, Mr. Holliday."

"How so? I don't recall prevailing in a debate about the matter."

"It was on the day you died. Another nurse was talking to me, but I was looking at you. You stared straight ahead and said 'I'll be damned - this is funny' and died. I just knew you had seen the great light they talk about when you die, and it was at that moment when my faith crystallized. I decided at that moment to become a missionary, and a month later I was riding a train on my way to a steamboat to India. I was there...why are you laughing?"

Doc wheezed for a moment until he caught his breath from trying to laugh. "It seems as though my last words have been misconstrued. I was referring to my feet - I was always sure that I would perish with my boots on as all heroes do; but at the last ten toes stared back, mocking me as I started to fade away. The irony was delicious and I couldn't let the occasion pass without remark before I did."

Miss Morris gawked at Doc for a moment, not sure what to make of the sudden revelation - but eventually the shock turned to a light but honest laugh and Doc felt better about the misunderstanding. "So you see, Mr. Holliday, even though our connection was brief it was very important. I might not be in Heaven now if you hadn't accidentally confirmed my faith."

"No, you might still be washing the delicates of the infirmed."

"I prefer it here, considering the alternative. It's important to remember every person we meet leaves an impression and perhaps more, a conviction whether we know it or not. But I have one more person to see after you and then..."

Doc waited for her to finish the sentence but she didn't as her voice trailed off. "And then what?" he asked.

"I guess I'll find out when I get there," she said and then everything quickly faded to black.

It was a few moments in the dark before Doc realized that it wasn't completely black. As his eyes adjusted, he saw that he was in a building of some sort; light filtered in through the narrow gaps in the boards of the walls. He sniffed and was rewarded with the smells of livestock. "I do believe I am in a barn," he muttered to himself. He took a step and his boot landed in something that went squish. "It may be Heaven, but it smells like Kansas City." He walked forward where the most light was streaming in and saw a rope and pulley set up through an opening near the roof. He pushed on what he guessed was the door, and it swung ajar enough for him to slip through to the outside.

There, he looked at the nearest building - a small farmhouse. He took a deep breath and smelled something he hadn't in many years. "Gopher wood," his mind said after searching though his memories. He walked out a few more steps and looked at the barn he had come out of, then at the farmhouse again. He knew this place; it belonged to his aunt and uncle in Georgia. There was a squeaking noise from just around the corner, and he went to investigate. He took in another lungful of air, then noticed that it truly WAS a lungful. For the first time since he had been a teenager, he could draw a full breath - and felt the strength to sprint if he so needed. Years of harnessing in the impulse to exert himself prevailed, and he walked around the corning while thinking that there used to be a tree...

And so there was; a strong oak, from which a simple swing hung. A swing that held a young, flaxen haired girl - she must have been about fifteen, the same age when...when...

"The age at which I learned the great mystery of love, Cousin John," she said as she looked directly at him. "The age when we first really knew each other."

"Charlotte." Doc couldn't believe his eyes - or his ears. No one had called him anything but Doc since his youth. "You...ah...look well."

"I'm dead too."

The realization hadn't dawned on him yet; if he was in Heaven, then everyone he met would be dead. He always thought that his cousin was somewhere in the services of the church, healthy and happy. Healthy, at least. "I'm truly sorry; I didn't know."

"I don't think anyone wanted you to know." The two cousins had gotten along well growing up, but there came a time when they thought of each other as more than cousins and the scandal was quickly squelched as Charlotte was sent to a convent before the consummated relationship developed further. "I died from the family curse - tuberculosis."

There was a time when it seemed to Doc that it was indeed a family curse. His mother had died from it, and shortly afterward his stepbrother as well. It came as no surprise when Doc himself was diagnosed when he was in his early 20's; at first, his guilt over the relationship with his cousin caused him to believe that the disease was some sort of divine punishment - he eventually reasoned that the two deaths occurred before the event, so it couldn't have been related. Any familial cause would have been rooted in an older generation than his; any regret he had was of Charlotte's departure, not his actions.

"Were you still a nun?"

"Of course. Being part of the church doesn't bestow immortality on you, nor does it remove frailty. Did you find someone else?"

"Not really. I've known a few women - in the biblical sense, mind you - but I never loved anyone else to point of not wanting anything else in my life."

"But such things are frowned upon; had we been strangers, it would have been completely different and our love - maybe not condoned, but at least not condemned."

Doc sat down on the ground in front of the swing. She meant at the time of their closeness; at this minute, a girl of fifteen and a man of thirty-six would have been equally frowned upon. "But strangers are strangers until they meet; at that point they cease to be a faceless, nameless part of the masses. Of course, it is safer to keep people as strangers lest animosity rear its ugly head."

"No, John. You don't mean that. Would you rather we had never met?"

Doc was taken aback. "Of course not! Yours is the yardstick by which all others failed to measure up. All loves after paled in comparison."

"You must remember that you have to have loved another in your life to have that yardstick. It doesn't matter if it is one, as in my case, or many - without love there is no yardstick, and without a yardstick it cannot be measured for there is none. It is the only way for a normal life."

"There is no normal life - there's just life," Doc caught himself saying. The same advice he had given to his greatest friend Wyatt Earp. "But I understand what you are saying. Even if a love doesn't measure up in full, it is love nevertheless."

"My dearest Cousin, you were always bright. I think my job here is done."

"Wait!" Doc yelled as he struggled to stand, but everything became blinding white.

Doc managed to stand - on what, he wasn't certain. The white around him resolved into a room that was mostly white; the walls, the ceiling, the floor and the cabinets were all nearly the same shade. As he turned, he saw a chair behind him - one specific to his learned profession of dentistry. In the chair sat a man; as Doc came around to the side, he recognized him.

"Morgan?"

"Howdy Doc," Wyatt's Earp's next younger brother answered.

"I regret breaking the news to you, Morgan, but I find it hard to believe there is any need of dentistry here - although I might reconsider if the Tooth Fairy were to show up suddenly."

Morgan laughed. "No Doc, from what I've been told you parley with people up here based on where you first met them. I reckon I first met you when Wyatt brought me to your practice in Dodge City." Doc studied the room more carefully; it did look a lot like his office, although a lot cleaner he had to admit. "You had me worried when you started coughing while working on my tooth, but I survived you yanking it out."

"I appreciate the testimonial - be sure to tell all your dead friends; I may have a future in dentistry yet, if there IS such a thing as a future in the afterlife."

Morgan laughed again. "Doc, I have to say I've always admired that about you. You're an educated man, and you've got a wit sharper than a new fish knife. I could always count on you to lighten the mood, even when things were at their most serious. Wyatt was always so sour, and Virgil was always trying to be a second father to us. You knew how to have fun."

"I might have experienced a longer stay on that mortal coil if I had reigned in some of that fun, according to the doctors' opinions. On the other hand, I did outlive some of their estimates by over a decade - so vice might have certain preservative factors."

"Nothing wrong with a little fun."

"My philosophy exactly. I do realize there was a certain reputation that I had. Morgan, I am sorry about you gettin' ambushed by the Cowboys in the saloon. I failed to protect you. I always felt bad about that, and I just couldn't bring myself to ever tell Wyatt."

"It wasn't your job, Doc. A man has a responsibility to watch his own back, and I was an adult. I took that job in Tombstone knowing it might be my last. You couldn't be everywhere at once. Tell me though - did you get Johnny Ringo?"

"He and I did finally have a chance to have a meeting of the minds, as it were; I'm afraid he came ill-prepared. I can state for the record that after our encounter he was finally at peace."

"That's what I think most people look up to you for, Doc. Yeah, you helped take out some men that were responsible for murder and mayhem of the innocent, but you always did it with style. I saw you avoid a shootout with Ringo in the Oriental at the Faro table. A lotta people could have been hurt, but you made everyone laugh and Ringo backed down. I think I'll always remember that."

"Many thanks, Morgan. I could have taken Ringo then, but you're right - someone else might have been killed too with Curly Bill and Ike Clanton there. I don't run from a fight, but I like it to be MY fight. We have to fight our own battles, and whether we carry our shield or are carried upon it is our purview."

"Like my death."

Doc thought about that for a moment; the man was right. "Why Morgan, I do believe you HAVE made a point."

"Thanks for everything, Doc; I guess I can move on now." Morgan took off the little bib that he had on his chest, rose out of the chair and walked toward the door as the surroundings changed in an instant. He was now standing behind a card table in a saloon; from his position as dealer he could see nearly the entire room and, although there were no people around, from the décor he knew where he was - John Shanssey's saloon in Texas. Doc looked out the window and saw an empty street. This was where he had made money dealing cards and also met...

"Me," a voice said behind him. He turned around and saw a blonde woman in a tight corset. It was his companion for most of the last years of his short life.

"Kate Horony. I always thought that you'd outlive me, my dear."

"Doc, nobody could outlive you. Live longer maybe, but they would certainly lack the panache that you had."

"You always knew how to play to my vanity; my ego surely would have deflated years ago if not for your constant attentions. It served my reputation well."

"Doc Holliday, you cared less for reputation than any man I know. You would speak eloquently right to the face of somebody you had heard of, but that eye of yours watched like a hawk to see what they did rather than what you'd heard about."

"In my profession - all three mind you, that I was lucky enough to enjoy for a spell - observation is everything. The eyes may play tricks on you occasionally, but reputation is no more reliable than myth; patients were wrong or lied about their teeth, poker players do everything to mask the reactions to what they hold in their hands, and I found most gunfighters have some little idiosyncrasy that gives away their draw that you will find as long as you are fortunate enough not to be on the dangerous end of their business. Reputations aren't worth the breath it takes to speak them."

"You defended me when that prospector went on about my reputation."

"Simply good manners, Kate. In your case, some of the accusations were true to be fair; however, it was no cause to speak them in public where anyone and everyone could hear." The man, sodden with drink, had maligned Kate for her big nose and questionable entertaining skills after she rebuffed his offers to buy her services. The price was right, but the man simply repulsed her. Doc, who had watched the whole interaction, had stepped in and chastised the man as uncouth and vulgar before knocking him on the head and tossing him out into the street when he reached for his knife.

"I never heard YOU complain."

"After that day when I had the fortune to fully make your acquaintance, I HAD no reason to complain. Your proboscis is a national treasure, and your skills just needed the right man to bring them out. As a woman, you are still more man than half the male population - and I mean that as a compliment," he said while doffing his hat.

"Accepted," she said as she smiled. "We had some good times, didn't we? After you left, life just wasn't the same."

"The word 'good' does a poor job of describing them; glorious might be an adequate term, you Hungarian Devil. In hindsight, I might even have loved you had I taken the time to consider the matter. I am probably remiss in letting you know now, but my thinking has enjoyed some expansion since my passing. I recommend it to everyone."

"You said that last part the time we went up in that hot air balloon."

"Did I? I was so frightened out of my wits that I'm surprised I didn't start speaking in tongues."

"Humility. That's a good step for you, Doc. I don't recall you showing that side of you before."

"Now that I don't need my reputation to stay alive, it would seem I have been striped of that veneer and you are seeing the real man at last. I find myself losing my hypocrisy in leaps and bounds."

"I knew there was an inner you all along - just don't be afraid to show it to others. Goodbye, Doc."

"Goodbye, Kate." Doc was starting to understand the process now, and only felt some regret as his surroundings changed again.

Now he was out somewhere in a wooded area; leaves crunched on the ground and he found himself staring down at Johnny Ringo. "So lunger, we meet again."

"Why Johnny, how good of you to come see me. I would have thought the Devil had a chair waiting for both of us, so imagine my surprise when I found myself here - and my disappointment when I see you."

"Allow me to cut your disappointment short!" he yelled as he drew his pistol. Doc's hand went instinctively to his side, but he was still dressed in the bedclothes he had been in during all his encounters. A shot rang out and Doc flinched, but nothing happened. No pain, no wound, not even a sensation of a bullet passing through. Johnny looked at his gun and then fired two more rounds at Doc, with the same lack of affect. He shot the ground and dirt flew from the impact.

"Tsk. Tsk. It would appear once is the limit when it comes to me dying," Doc chastised. "You are aware we are both deceased, right? In fine vitae."

Johnny stared for a moment before he yelled to the sky above in frustration and threw his gun away in disgust. "Well, at least I'm not the only one dead. Small satisfaction, but I'll take it."

"We both do seem to have ended up at the same place. But this is a perfect exemplar of life; no matter our circumstances, we always end up leaving it behind us. Samuel Colt may have made all men equal, but death brings in those without the foresight to be armed. Now, without the distraction of life, I can finally ask you - Why are you so unhappy, Johnny?"

"Life isn't fair."

Johnny's face betrayed that he was conflicted and neither cocky or sullen. Doc noticed and pressed the issue. "No, it isn't. Death is, but life has its favorites. You are a learned man - What good is there in taking your anger out on others?"

"Because I blame God for my father dying in some stupid accident. I lost friends because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and now I'm getting even for them. I practiced and I got good and don't take nothin' from nobody."

Doc winced a little at the grammar but let it be; Johnny was always a little highly-strung and he'd known many that would slip into the lingua franca of their youth when worked up. "So why didn't you just shoot everyone you met? I would think the savings in time would be immense."

"It...wouldn't be right." Johnny seemed to be fighting to come to terms with his anger. "I don't hate everyone."

Doc was pleased; there might be hope yet. Johnny Ringo the legend was arguably mean and a hot-headed killer. The actual man was something else. "Ah, a noble sentiment. Do you hate your father for dying on you?"

Johnny got red in the face. "My father was a good man! He worked hard to support us, and he gave up everything to move to where we could prosper! If he hadn't been so stupid with his...shotgun..." he said before breaking off with a horrible look on his face. "I really do hate him. He ruined my life!" he said, almost spitting it out.

Doc held up his hands to interrupt. "Wait there, partner. Did he kill himself on purpose?"

"No!"

"Is it true that he worked hard like you said, and moved the family because he thought it would be better for the family?"

"Yes, I told you so!"

"So, tell me where I'm wrong - a man that worked hard for a family and was willing to give up everything for them has an accident; why hate him?"

Johnny started to pace, then stopped facing away from Doc and hung his head. "I don't, I guess. I just hate myself."

"How prosaic; now join the club with everyone else. Johnny, we all hate ourselves for something we've done in our lives. I try to tell myself that every man I've killed deserved it, but inside I just don't know. I fight down my anger all the time, and even Kate knew there were times I was scared."

Johnny turned around. "The great Doc Holliday scared?"

Doc nodded. "Scared of dying, scared of living, scared of people finding out I was scared. To tell the truth, I wasn't even half sure that I could beat you in a draw; but I KNEW you could beat Wyatt, so I took his place. If I died, you'd be doing me a favor of making it quick instead of that slow death I ended up partaking of." He walked over to Johnny and put his hand on his shoulder, something unimaginable in life. "I can't speak for others, but I forgive you for anything you've done against me, including making me wear that deputy badge; somehow I just didn't feel worthy of it."

"Maybe you didn't feel worthy, Doc, but I know for a fact Wyatt did," Johnny said, suddenly breaking into a grin. "Being scared but not letting it stop you is a mark of true bravery, and I know your friend needed that."

"What? How do you know so much about me suddenly? I heard no angelic choir during your epiphany."

Johnny laughed. "You can discuss it with him; you're done with your five people, but before you get to move on you get to be one of his." Johnny and the forest faded away, and with that completed Doc was off to see his best friend.

The End

Notes:

I was thinking how to fit The Five People You Meet In Heaven into another fandom, and I just happened to catch the end of the movie "Tombstone" again. I thought about it for a moment, and decided that I could do a little shifting around and make a crossover with Doc's death. It may not follow the book exactly (I read it when it first came out so it's been a while) but I tried to get some of the essence of it.